In plain words
Only then will that learning help: one must recognise this truth. Before the life-breath goes, Rāma calls Lakṣmaṇa. ‘Lakṣmaṇa! That Rāvaṇa, a great hero, valiant and wise, is now about to give up his life. Go and listen to what he will say at the end,’ He said. Taking his elder brother's command on his head, Lakṣmaṇa went to Rāvaṇa. He put his ears close to Rāvaṇa's mouth and listened. Three wishes I could not fulfil. I did everything. Three good deeds I could not do. The first: around my Laṅkā there is a salt sea. I wanted to turn this sea into a sweet sea. The second: for those who suffer in hell, I wanted to turn it into heaven and give them happiness. But I wanted to build a ladder from sin to merit. These good deeds I could not do. I did nothing but bad deeds: learning this, Lakṣmaṇa came back and told his elder brother. Then Rāma said: ‘Lakṣmaṇa! What is the use of grieving before death? Whatever good he meant to do, he should have done at once. Without doing it, what is the use of all this worrying?’ Man has two kinds of remorse. Remorse beforehand. Remorse afterwards. One is the remorse felt after the act is done. The second is the remorse felt even before the deed. What Arjuna felt was the remorse beforehand. The chariot went into the battle and stood still. His head spun. His eyes are reeling. Kṛṣṇa, Kṛṣṇa, I do not want this war. Having slain so many kinsmen and friends, the sons of my gurus, how am I to bear it? ‘My eyes are reeling. Waste no time; set off for home,’ he said. Having killed so many kinsmen and friends, what am I to enjoy? I do not want it. After killing my own kin, what is the use of my living?
Learning Without Practice Is Worthless
The Kauravas are cruel. They will never be won over by good words. Rather than fight such people and eat that food, it is better to go hungry, he said. That itself is the essence of learning. A man of great learning indeed was Rāvaṇa. So learned, and in the very end, what a death he died!